Clashnessie Bay
Sea sighs gently on sand,
gulls scream raucously overhead
and the setting sun casts a spell over the bay.
Sandy beach studded with pebbles,
each one a jewel that draws the eye,
impossible to resist collecting a few.
Pebbles stripy, speckled and uniform;
blue-grey, white, pink and brown;
smooth and rounded, rough and angular.
A coffee-table-like rock is just perfect
for a collection of pebble gems;
shadows cast artistically on the flat top.
A clamber over the rocks edging the bay
to a vantage point with the sea lapping gently below
just to sit silently and stare.
Calm sea, blue sky;
smooth beach, setting sun;
a moment of magic.
An almost imperceptible change breaks the spell:
a wave breaking on a rock below.
The tide has turned.
Off the rocks, onto the beach
to beat the encroaching sea
just in the nick of time.
Sitting on the beach now,
sifting fine white sand between fingers,
safely watching the sea’s advance.
Slowly but steadily,
a little more dry sand turns wet
as every other wavelet stretches ashore.
Air bubbles up - a mini geyser -
as water fills the space between grains,
turning soft sand solid.
As the sun leaves the horizon,
we leave the beach,
but our footprints linger a little longer.
